


Black Clouds and Underdogs

by frigCal



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst angst angst angst angst, Clubbing, Drug Use Mentions, I guess it's TECHNICALLY underage sex but it's like a few months does it even count, I swear this will actually have a happy ending, I won't reveal the endgame pairings just yet, M/M, Nothing Drastic, Teen Angst, Underage Substance Use, alcohol use descriptions, it's really just mentions of the scary things, nothing too bad I promise, otc drugs use, self harm mentions, semi-graphic descriptions of violence?? except not really, there will be more pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:05:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frigCal/pseuds/frigCal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which kids get called vicious and carved out of stone, but are really just screaming into the microphones for attention, cause inside they feel like dead ends. Jeonghan doesn't do very well on his own. Jun is going down swinging. Wonwoo is no good with words but Mingyu is worse. Seokmin is a liar, but he's the best. Soonyounghas such great fashion sense. Jihoon's got sunset in his veins. And everyone is young forever.</p><p>A chaptered seventeen fanfiction based on the From Under the Cork Tree album by Fall Out Boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We're Only Liars, But We're The Best

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few notes: this is a cross-post from AFF, but from now on I will be mainly updating the story here. Each of the chapters is based on a song from From Under the Cork Tree album, following the original song order. What's more, each chapter contains direct quotes form lyrics in addition to being titled with song lyrics. If you want to, or if you're as obsessed with FOB as I am, you can try to find those quotes in the text. Now, without further ado, to the story.

“You’re staring again,” Jeonghan sighed heavily. And indeed, Seokmin was burning holes in the pretty, blonde head belonging to Soonyoung, or “Hoshi” as he was called in the club circle. He didn’t even bother denying and instead, he exhaled loudly into his beer, making a humming noise.

“I know. I’m pathetic,” he answered, and sent Jeonghan a smile that was meant to be apologetic, but came out as far too bright.

“You’re just shy. Stop being shy and just go chat with him. He’s been stealing glances the whole time.” Jeonghan fixed his hair, following Seokmin’s look, and gave Soonyoung a very obvious once-over just in time to see him turn his head and look in the direction of bar, where they were sitting. He stole a glance at the whiny Seokmin, and then interlocked eyes with Jeonghan, and quickly looked away, embarrassed.

“Everyone knows you have a thing for him, so just hit him up,” Jeonghan added, turning back to Seokmin, who lifted his face from the counter and pouted.

“He’s famous. I can’t just walk up to him and talk him up.”

“Yes you can! He’s not even famous. Just… Sorta known. You’ve talked with him before,” Jeonghan opposed, and Seokmin groaned. It was true, Hoshi had a couple of fans, and his dance group, the OMG Team, had more than three hundred subscribers on their YouTube channel. But their fame barely exceeded behind the city and some specific YouTube circles. Now, after they had won yet another dance-off organised by the Pledis club, they were sure to get more popular.

“Maybe, but he’s got heaps of fans now,” Seokmin whined, knowing he was exaggerating.

“Untrue. Besides, look. Seungkwan is talking with him just fine, you can go there too.” Seungkwan, their mutual friend, was indeed sitting in the booth with the rest of the OMG team, chatting away, making jokes and laughing loudly. 

“Seungkwan is the club MC! He’s almost famous himself.” Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh.

“The most fame he ever got was when he won the karaoke contest,” He retorted truthfully.

“Are you saying Seungkwan isn’t liked? Everyone loves Seungkwan!” Seokmin pretended to be outraged, in a successful attempt to change the topic, exaggerating his gestures but keeping his gummy smile full-blown. 

“Ah, you know it’s not what I mean! I love Seungkwan too, that kid is too bright,” Jeonghan fussed, laughing his awkward laugh.

“Aish, Jeonghan, I should tell him you can’t stand him,” Seokmin kept bickering, smiling brightly. He took another swing of his beer, despite not even being old enough to drink. It was Jeonghan who bought him the bottle, under a promise that he wouldn’t drink any more today. After all, when the club was celebrating OMG’s victory, he had to make the toast somehow. Quarreling playfully, they didn’t notice someone approaching them.

“Hey, can I join?” Upon hearing the familiar warm, but unexpectedly deep voice, Seokmin turned his head around so fast he almost snapped his neck. Unaware of the reaction he caused, Hoshi calmly slipped onto a chair next to Seokmin.

“Ah, of course, please join us!” Jeonghan smiled widely and wiggled an eyebrow at Seokmin. Half of the bar knew about Seokmin’s big, fat crush on Soonyoung, but Jeonghan was one of the people who had to listen about it all the time. Seokmin only nodded, hoping his redness could be blamed on the alcohol. Only after Hoshi ordered a beer Seokmin gathered the courage to speak.

“Hey, congrats on winning. Your performance was really amazing,” Seokmin muttered shyly, as Jeonghan stayed suspiciously silent.

“Ahh, thank you! I didn’t think we’re gonna win with our choice of song,” Soonyoung admitted with a slight blush. Most of the groups chose trap, beat-heavy mixes, or hiphop songs shooting for the tough and strong concepts. OMG however chose a popular bright, bubbly pop song with fast rap, deep bass and high octave vocals. Their performance was powerful as usual, even if their upbeat song and choreography didn’t suit everyone’s tastes, they still one-upped everyone in terms of dancing skills.

“But you totally rocked the stage!” Seokmin smiled and hit Soonyoung’s arm lightly. “But it was a bit of shock when you came up in this,” he said, tugging at his hoodie.

“Ah, I know. It was Chan’s idea, actually. But I guess it paid off, huh?” The entire OMG Team was dressed in matching outfits - various shades of ripped jeans with bright ribbons tied to the belt loops, comfortable dancing sneakers, and white mesh tops. The only thing they all had different was sleeveless hoodies, Hoshi clad in bright lemon yellow, while the other members rocked hot pink, cyan and lime. In the middle of the performance, they zipped the hoodies down revealing the mesh tops just as the uv light turned on, making it really pop with their sneakers and the glitter they had dusted on their cheeks and hands.

“It totally did. Even if you’re making everything sparkly now,” Seokmin laughed, and used the topic as an excuse to touch Soonyoung’s hand, scraping some of the leftover glitter off, and smearing it on his arm.

“Ah, don’t get me started on the glitter!” The other laughed, wiping his cheekbones, only spreading the makeup further instead of wiping it off.

“It looks great, come on, Soonyoung,” Seokmin laughed again. He didn’t even realise how non-awkward he felt until Hoshi’s smile faded down a bit and he got anxious all over again. “Ah, sorry, should I not call you that?”

“No, no! Please. Soonyoung is great,” he reassured Seokmin quickly, with a slight blush. “I was just surprised you know my name. Everyone here calls me Hoshi.”

“You don’t like it?” Seokmin asked, confused.

“I do. But from you, I think I prefer Soonyoung.” Seokmin wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but he felt his cheeks heating up. He took another swing of the beer, thinking that it was either going to his head much faster than before, or Soonyoung’s presence affected his thought process severely. 

“Aren’t your friends waiting for you?” he asked after the silence drew on far too long for his liking.

“They aren’t. They’re doing fine.” Soonyoung looked over to the booth where the team was laughing and playing. Only when he saw Jeonghan laughing with them he realised he never noticed him leaving. Thanking him inside his head, he turned back to Soonyoung.

“Hey, want to go somewhere quieter?” Soonyoung offered suddenly, already getting up from his chair. Seokmin nodded. They both grabbed their beers and left the main room.

It was already November, so a stroll around the park was out of question if they wanted to talk comfortably, without their fingers freezing. The smoking room was also filled with not only smoke but also people. Ultimately, they found a quiet place near the toilets, a small staircase leading to some employee only room. The stairs were of questionable comfort, but the music wasn’t drowning out their words anymore. It was Seokmin who first broke the silence.

“Aren’t you tired after all this?” Seokmin gestured to the club scene behind them with his beer.

“Nah. In fact, I think I’m gonna go dance more,” Soonyoung answered cheerfully, but he leaned back as if against his own words.

“I heard you also sing?” Seokmin inquired. He heard that from Seungkwan a long time ago, and it had been bugging him ever since. He didn’t want to pass up on an opportunity to finally ask Hoshi himself. Before, they had only exchanged fistful of words, and this was their first time properly talking.

“Ah, who told you that? Seungkwan? I bet it was Seungkwan.” Seokmin almost denied that, but Soonyoung didn’t wait for an answer. “I kind of do, but not that much. I prefer to dance.”

“If I asked you,” Seokmin started awkwardly, and downed half of what was left of his beer to gather the courage to ask the rest. “If I asked you, would you sing for me?” In the back of his head he realised he had no right to ask for something like that, but he blamed the bravado on the alcoholic buzz.

“Only if you sing for me first,” Soonyoung answered with a wide smile, and wiggled his eyebrow slightly. Seokmin thought that under sharp, white light he looked extremely different. The white glitter on his face wasn’t as mesmerising anymore, standing out less. His complexion seemed pale now, veins visible where his arms flexed.  His mesh top was suddenly very revealing, showing a very muscular, but surprisingly not thin stomach, with a pale trail of hair leading to his groin. Seokmin prayed to god the older didn’t notice him passing a glance in that direction, and just to do anything, he nodded.

“Fine, but don’t be disappointed.” Soonyoung mock-hit him and whined in reply.

“Come on, I won’t be. You’re Mr Karaoke!” Seokmin giggled. He was called that sometimes because of his notorious solos at the Pledis karaoke nights.

Seokmin panicked. He tried to come up with a different song, he really tried to. But the only tunes he had in mind were the embarrassing love song that always made him think of Soonyoung, and music from the second level of Mario Bros. 

“To be honest, from our first meeting, saying I like you wasn’t an easy thing for me to do. If I don’t approach you first, I’m afraid I’m gonna lose you. I wrote a message and erased it, I keep doing this repeatedly,” He gave in and started singing the first one, hoping that Soonyoung won’t take it for the confession it was. He couldn’t bring himself to continue, knowing how lyrics would go from there, so he forced out a voice crack, and laughed. “Ah, I guess that’s it. Your turn now.”

“Ah, that was such an old song… Okay, so…” He looked indecisive for a second, and then his expression changed to a playful one.

“Wife, dear, baby, what should I call you? What is my love doing right now? Did she eat? Did she sleep well? All day I only think about my princess!” He sang in the characteristic trot voice, and Seokmin couldn’t help but laugh out loud, almost knocking his beer over.

“Yah! Don’t laugh! It’s serious!” Soonyoung gushed, but he was laughing as well.

“You have a great voice though,” Seokmin stuttered between outbursts of laughter. He was thankful for Soonyoung’s song choice. It not only made the atmosphere lighter, he was sure that if Soonyoung had decided to sing anything else, Seokmin wouldn’t be able to hide how much harder it made him fall in love.

“Thank you, thank you!” Soonyoung mock-bowed.

“Seriously, just how many talents do you have?” Seokmin slapped Soonyoung’s knee lightly, getting careless with his actions now that the buzz was hitting him better.

“I can also do taekwondo!”

“No way.”

“Yes way! I was a child prodigy! I even won district championships once!” Soonyoung answered, and punched the air a couple of times to prove his point, while Seokmin hollered in excitement. Just as he stood up and kicked the air, two girls walked out of the toilets and passed him a judging look. He rushed back to the stairs embarrassedly, while Seokmin laughed so hard he was pretty sure he was going to pull something. 

The girls walked away to their own business, and Seokmin finally calmed down. Still smiling, he looked over to Soonyoung, but the other was suddenly not bright and happy at all.

“What happened?” Seokmin asked hesitantly, and instead of answering, Soonyoung grabbed Seokmin’s left forearm. 

Seokmin felt his guts turn and twist into a knot painfully. He realised he had got too careless and pushed the sleeves of his cardigan back, revealing his forearm, currently covered with very visible shallow, brown scars and even more visible maroon scabs. He realised that Soonyoung must have seen this. A number thoughts rushed through his head. About how now Soonyoung would be disgusted, make fun of him, or maybe pity him. Tell everyone, too. But then Soonyoung softened his grip and pulled Seokmin closer, and when he spoke up, his voice was smooth and soft.

“I didn’t know you’re a cutter.” Seokmin shivered at the word. He didn’t like it, he didn’t think of himself as of a cutter. He just occasionally had no better way of letting the emotions out than by scratching and slitting his skin. He didn’t want it to define him.

“This is nothing. Please, ignore it.” He tried to pull his hand away, but Soonyoung’s grip, however soft, was unrelenting.

“I guess it’s true, what people say. The ones who smile the brightest are those who suffer the most.” Soonyoung couldn’t turn his eyes away from the scars, now grazing them gently with his thumb.

“Ah, don’t be so overly dramatic. Please.” Seokmin was desperate to downplay the issue while he still could.

“Listen, Seokminnie… Can you do something for me?” Finally, Soonyoung released Seokmin’s hand, and reached to his pants to untie one of the ribbons he got attached to the belt loops. Seokmin moved away instinctively, and only nodded in answer, seemingly forgetting how to speak. He picked a cobalt blue one, and then gestured at Seokmin to give back his hand. Hesitantly, the younger obeyed.

Slowly, with a stern expression, Soonyoung wrapped the ribbon around Seokmin’s wrist, and then tied it into a secure knot, finishing with a bow. He seemed to hesitate for a while, but then gave it a peck.

“This,” He said, grabbing Seokmin’s attention.

“Hm?” He answered, trying to shake off the confusion and embarrassment.

“ Do not open before Christmas .” Soonyoung tried to smile, but it was only a faint shade of his trademark 10:10 smile. 

“What do you mean?” Seokmin stuttered out.

“If I could possibly see your wrist intact, it would be a great Christmas present for me,” Soonyoung said with a shy smile, as if understanding Seokmin’s silent plea and also trying to make the whole issue less serious.

“So don’t open it, untie it, cut it open, or slip it off until it’s Christmas. Okay? Then I will give you something better.” He didn’t say the exact words, but it was obvious what he really meant. That it didn’t matter if it was on the wrist or somewhere else, Seokmin wouldn’t hurt himself.

“It’s just two months. Can you do it for me?” Soonyoung asked, looking Seokmin deep into the eye, and that’s when he realised he hadn’t said anything for a long time.

“What if people ask me about it?” Seokmin gestured to the ribbon with his eyes. Soonyoung wanted to answer that if nobody asked about the scars, nobody would ask about the ribbon, either. Instead, he untied another ribbon from his pants, this time a light green one, and tied it around his own wrist, using his teeth to pull the knot tightly.

“Here. Now we both have it. You can say it’s the latest fashion trend.” Hearing this, Seokmin couldn't help but chuckle.

“Yeah,  we’ve got such good fashion sense .” He already pulled his sleeves back down, but the blue ribbon was peeking from underneath, somewhere between blending seamlessly into his outfit and catching attention.

“So, do you promise?” Soonyoung was persistent.

Seokmin already knew his answer before he opened his mouth to speak. How could he say “no” when his crush was staring him right into the eye with such a concerned look? He didn’t ask Soonyoung why he cared, why that one particular wrist was so important to him. He didn’t ask Soonyoung why he thought they were going to still be talking after two months time. He was worried the answer would not be one that he’d want to hear. Instead, he just sighed heavily.

“I promise.” Seokmin smiled faintly, but honestly, before changing the subject to something much more light. 


	2. I Used To Waste My Time Dreaming Of Being Alive (Now I Only Waste It Dreaming Of You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just how far Jeonghan was from an angel was the most visible when the lights were turned off. Contrary to the popular opinion, Seungcheol did not love it.

When Seungcheol woke up with head full of regret, it wasn’t because the first thing he saw was Jeonghan’s long, blonde hair softly spilled all over the pillows. If that was an image he could hang up on for the eternity, he’d be a happy man. It was the memories of what lead to this situation, and the thumping headache.

Carefully, as to not disturb Jeonghan, he got up from the bed, thankful for sleeping on the edge and not by the wall, and dressed up in the clothes he threw on the floor hastily last evening. The thumping headache passed quite quickly after he treated it with ultra-fast painkillers and water, but when it passed, it only left more room for remorse and second, third, fourth thoughts.

It wasn’t his house, but he ended up at Jeonghan’s so many times already that he knew his way around. That realisation only made him sigh deeply. Memories of the past events have been building up in his head for quite some time already, and he knew that if he didn’t think the entire situation through soon, very soon, he’d end up doing something incredibly stupid and probably dangerous. Knowing that for a fact, he made himself comfortable in an armchair in Jeonghan’s room from which he could watch the sleeping boy and think undisturbed.

Seungcheol heard somewhere that one should always start from the very beginning, so he tried to think about how he and Jeonghan met. They used to attend the same school, and even were classmates on the first year, but they didn’t talk back then. Seungcheol only admired Jeonghan from afar just as one would admire a painting in an off-limits section of an art gallery - sneakily, carefully and without particular fondness. The time for affection came later, when they grew, changed, and met once, twice through their mutual friends, frequented the same parties and naturally drifted towards each other.

The phrase “back then” ran through Seungcheol’s head again. The time that had passed since they started being on closer terms should was counted in months, not in years, but in that period of time so much happened that Seungcheol couldn’t help but separate “back then” and “now” as if those were not months but decades apart. _ If he was to draw a clear line between those two periods, he would pick the time when Jeonghan bleached his hair _ , he thought, and almost laughed, because honestly, who counts the time by someone else’s hairstyle? But there was more to it.

Over the span of the few months Jeonghan has changed. Seungcheol was more than aware of how it was all because of him. When it was still “back then”, Seungcheol was a different man, and Jeonghan was drawn to that person. But over the time life hit Seungcheol hard, causing him to change his ways from the nice, but sheepish schoolboy to a troubled youth. A spurge of memories rushed through his head, his father’s shouting voice, his mother’s trembling hands, stolen bottles of alcohol and his own fists curling up and throwing punches at people he barely knew. He shook his head to get rid of those images. No, he didn’t want to think about how he got there. He focused on Jeonghan instead.

Seungcheol was good at keeping the harmless poise, he really was. But Jeonghan was even better at looking through it. During the  _ back then   _ he developed something between a teenage crush and a desperate affection towards Seungcheol, and he wanted to have as much as possible in common with him. 

Jeonghan changed up his surroundings as naturally as a fish changed streams of water. Seungcheol’s and Jeonghan’s mutual friends changed into Seungcheol’s friends that knew Jeonghan’s circles, and then into Seungcheol’s circles that welcomed Jeonghan in the squad. Jeonghan’s awkward jokes and carefree laughter changed into boozed puns and seductive chuckles. Jeonghan’s choir practices changed into nights out in the club. And just like that, Jeonghan’s soft brown locks turned into an ashen blond ponytail.

Once again Seungcheol felt a stir of guilt. Even if Jeonghan spiraled into that life by himself, Seungcheol couldn’t help but feel like the initiator, the main culprit.

Jeonghan had always had this angelic quality to him. Something about his features and the way his long hair enhanced them just screamed “ethereal”, “pure” and “holy”, and his bright laugh and wide smile only made the feeling more intense. His nickname "angel" did come from his birth date, but before it was deepened by his image. Now the same features were more often seen bent in a grimace, lips bitten and bleeding, eyes circled dark, hair sinfully swept back, and the angel seemed more of the fallen kind. How could Seungcheol not feel guilty?

Jeonghan’s sleeping expression was calm and relaxed, and not pained, as if trying to prove to Seungcheol that there is nothing to worry about. For a second, he let himself marvel over Jeonghan’s beauty, but the thought itself brought him back to earth. Admiring Jeonghan was no good. Getting attached was no good. Jeonghan couldn’t end up with anyone of Seungcheol’s sort, or so he told himself. He repeated that like a mantra every time Jeonghan selt him a flirty look.

And yet, once again, he gave in and followed Jeonghan to his room. Once again, relished in how Jeonghan’s hair felt between his fingers and how Jeonghan’s skin felt under his tongue. And once again, he played a part in Jeonghan’s downfall.

Seungcheol pressed the heels of his hands to his eye sockets and resisted the urge to scream. He was being weak and selfish and taking what Jeonghan presented to him on a silver plate even if he knew this only got Jeonghan more hooked on the darker side of life. He promised himself again that he would gather his belongings and leave now, and then give Jeonghan the cold shoulder for however long it took to discourage him completely, but he never actually managed to stand up and leave. Outside, two vigorous dogs started barking and yapping at each other, and Jeonghan first stirred in his sleep, then turned, and then finally opened his eyes.

For a few seconds Jeonghan’s expression was blissfully blank, but then he furrowed his brows, and started looking around, obviously bothered by Seungcheol’s absence. When he finally noticed the older, he broke into a shy smile.

“You didn’t leave,” He stated the obvious, because yes, this time Seungcheol hadn’t run away as soon as he woke up. “That’s nice.”

“I should have.” Seungcheol ruined the mood and put his face back into his hands for a couple of seconds, while Jeonghan propped himself up and leaned against the wall, sitting and facing Seungcheol.

“It’s not true. You’re welcome here. You’d be even more welcome if you gave me some water.” Jeonghan half-chuckled jokingly, but Seungcheol still walked out of the room for a second and came back with a bottle of mineral water. 

Jeonghan was shirtless. The pale curve of his collarbone was already bruising up red and blue from where Seungcheol bit and sucked last night. His blonde hair was in disarray, and Jeonghan didn’t even bother fixing it properly. He smiled a faint smile at Seungcheol, when the latter handed him the water.

“Listen, I’m sorry about yesterday,” Seungcheol started, sitting back into the armchair.

“Don’t be,” Jeonghan cut in quickly, getting a deja vu. Was this talk not just like every single other talk they had after they had spent the night together?

“I shouldn’t have came here, and you know that,” Seungcheol pressed his point, falling back into a fixed conversation pattern that happened between them several times already.

“But you still did.” Jeonghan’s voice was stern, but he didn’t dare to tear his eyes away from the bedsheet.

“It’s just really that you deserve… Better than me.” Seungcheol wished he could have pretended that speaking the truth hurt him, but he couldn’t. Since the start he knew he wasn’t a suitable match for the angelic choir boy, and nothing had changed. How could that phrase hurt if he’d repeated it a thousand times in his head? It lost his impact for him, and for Jeonghan probably too, since he snorted bitterly.

“And how can you know that? I want you, Seungcheol, so maybe I do deserve you?” Jeonghan finally lifted his eyes from the bed and stared deep into Seungcheol’s own. He didn’t even blink, until Seungcheol looked away.

“You’ve got the wrong idea about me.  You only hold me up like this ‘cause you don’t know who I really am . If you knew, you’d change your mind immediately.” Seungcheol’s words sounded like wallowing in self-pity, but his tone and cold demeanor made it seem more like a grim warning. Just as he wanted.

“Maybe you just really should let  _ me _ decide about my life?” Seungcheol winced at how aggressive Jeonghan’s tone of voice had gotten. He thought of many possible answers, like for example where deciding about his life had led Jeonghan up until now, or how he was only advising. In the end, he didn’t answer. 

“Or maybe you should show me who you really are, then,” Jeonghan added, much more softly, almost apologetically. It was Seungcheol’s turn to snort bitterly. Jeonghan pretended it didn’t offend him. It was now Seungcheol’s turn to deny, Jeonghan’s to insist, Seungcheol’s to quarrel forth and Jeonghan to raise his voice. They knew the scheme too well, so they spared themselves the meaningless words, instead letting silence fall.

“I really should go. I promised Jihoon I will help him out with some stuff for his new project,” Seungcheol broke the silence with a white lie of sorts. He didn’t really promise, he only offered his help and Jihoon didn’t insist on Seungcheol coming. 

“He can be pretty scary when he wants to,” Jeonghan admitted with a weak smile. He had only met Jihoon two times, but both of the times he managed to get a glimpse of the shorter pissed off. When smiling, he gave off an aura of a domesticated cat. When angry, though, he gave off an aura of death. Jeonghan exhaled loudly and smiled at the memory.

“Yeah, I don’t want to piss him off.” Seungcheol smiled, remembering how hot tempered Jihoon could be sometimes. Still picturing the fuming, pink haired shortie, he dared to look over at Jeonghan. Their eyes met, and there was a spark of something, but then Jeonghan’s expression changed, and so did Seungcheol’s, and the spark was gone, atmosphere between them too stiff to smile and laugh how they once did.

It pained Seungcheol once again, how he fucked up their relationship. For a second, he caught himself hoping that, just as Jeonghan said, they could have something more, form a relationship, and that maybe, maybe Seungcheol could even leave his current life behind. It lasted just for a split second, and then Jeonghan turned his eyes down, and Seungcheol stood up, and started gathering his belongings.

His fingertips were a bit numb, like sometimes just after you wake up, but he knew it was not having to do with the morning, and more with the burning sensation he felt in his neck where Jeonghan drilled holes with his eyes, and with the heat of guilt pooling up in his stomach. He didn’t have more. All the belongings that he brought with him, other than the coat and shoes he noticed before in the hallway, were his belt, wallet that fell out of the jeans’ pocket (keys were still in the other pocket) and his phone, that he could not find. Then, he heard a shutter snap and quiet click behind him. When he turned away, it was Jeonghan with Seungcheol’s phone, taking a picture of the window and the view outside it.

“What? It’s pretty,” He retorted, when Seungcheol passed him a glance somewhere between bewildered and ticked off. Seeing as he had no response to that, he only extended his hand expecting the phone to be given back to him, and Jeonghan complied with an almost guilty half-smile.

Seungcheol wanted to apologise, but he couldn’t find the words or a reason. Instead, he tried to soften his expression. “Don’t forget to close the door behind me.” Jeonghan didn’t even scoff.

Seungcheol tried to not think about how cold his shoes felt, or how the coat laid uncomfortably against his back. Or how the street was weirdly quiet first moment, and then loud with wind whistle and engine hum the other. Or how his heart continued beating fast no matter how much he slowed down his pace, and how his tightly pressed lips were probably the only warm part of his face. Especially not about how he was almost sure the noise he heard just before he closed the doors was Jeonghan’s soft sob.

_ That was the right thing to do, _ he told himself.  _ And coming back to Jeonghan’s bed wasn’t. The faster he learned that, the better.  _ He hummed in discontent when the stench of his own tiny apartment hit him in the face, and ignored it. Despite just having slept, he was tired again, and hoping for another nap before Jihoon called, or before the nighttime came and required him to get up and be strong again.

After entering the bedroom, the first thing his eyes fell on were his bed. And then his bedsheets, and then the pillow, and that’s when he noticed it was dirty. In irregular, blocky smudges, there was some yellowish beige, at one part with pink undertones, he found upon closer inspection. But only the smudged black strokes and silver glitter made him realise what the stains were, and the realisation made him throw the pillow on the ground and turn on his heel, and dash to the kitchen, where he kept the gin in the freezer.

_ It was Jeonghan’s makeup _ , he screamed in his head, not bothering to mix the gin with anything else, and ignoring the bitterness like he did with the remorse.  _ It was Jeonghan’s makeup from the halloween party almost a week ago, from when he dressed up as an angel, and from when he spent the night at Seungcheol’s, doing things no angel would do _ . Seungcheol slapped himself mentally, and took a breather between one mouthful and another.  _ At some point he was bound to stop feeling disgusted with himself, just like at some point he stopped feeling the burn of the alcohol _ , Seungcheol was sure of that, but for now he only took another swig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally getting somewhere! The next chapter is still going to be low on angst, but the calm won't last long, I promise. PS - did you spot the lyrics?


	3. How Misery Loved Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mingyu wants Wonwoo to show him a little spine he's been saving for... Jun's mattress? Well he certainly doesn't want to forget how Wonwoo's voice sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up... This is longer than both previous chapters combined (5,8k! I've gone mad).

They never talked outside the club. Asked about that, Wonwoo would say it was because there was no need. Their relationship was just their loneliness always finding release in the same person, and maybe laughing at each other’s bad jokes after one too many beer. That, and Mingyu progressively and more desperately trying to pick Wonwoo up.

Asked about that, Mingyu would say it was because Wonwoo was ashamed of who he was, and scared of being associated with Mingyu. He wasn’t exactly the best person to be seen around of, having the reputation of an aggressive idiot from a bad neighbourhood, and he couldn’t blame Wonwoo for wanting to have nothing to do with that sort of gossip. Or for shutting down Mingyu’s attempts at hitting on him.

Mingyu wanted to be angry with Wonwoo’s antics - kind of turning him down while at the same time never being too rejective - but he couldn’t. He understood why Wonwoo did that, after all. Mingyu had all the worst fame to his name, and even if he didn’t, they didn’t have that much in common. 

That was also one of the reasons they never even really tried to meet each other under other circumstances. Mingyu was in his last year of school, and Wonwoo was finished. Mingyu picked all the wrong friends and had debts in all the wrong places, and Wonwoo tried to live his life with no enemies, even if sometimes that meant no friends. The more Mingyu continued thinking, the more differences between them he saw, and slowly, he almost started doubting he and Wonwoo could ever get on the same page.

And yet, there he was. Once again they had been talking for god knows how long, and once again despite not letting Mingyu make a move earlier, Wonwoo was listening to his rambling with their legs interlocked by their ankles under the table they were sitting at. And he kept listening, even if Mingyu being the sloppy drunk he was, got a bit carried away with the sob story of his life. But how could he not? 

Truth be told, as of lately, his life had been nothing more than a series of unfortunate events, and it didn’t look like it was about to change any time soon. His father had kept himself out of his and his mother’s life, until recently when Mingyu had gone and fucked everything up. In his impulsiveness he beat up one kid too many, and his father took interest in him, and while he was rich, and the money helped, he was also affiliated with all sorts of wrong people in a way that wasn’t exactly discreet. Cue Mingyu’s reputation of an aggressive mafia heir around his school, and his bad situation with his mother.  _ She didn’t deserve any of this _ , Mingyu thought sincerely, and groaned.

“Honestly, drugs and mafia? I can see why my mother wanted to break up with him,” Mingyu groaned, and tried to not think about his little sister, already getting dragged into this.

“Well, this is rather shitty.” Wonwoo nodded his head sympathetically, trying his hardest to not seem as cold as he knew he sometimes came off as. It must have not worked, because Mingyu looked up from where he was pressing his forehead against the table.

“You don’t say,” he groaned once again.

“No, really. This is terrible. I’m just bad with words.” Wonwoo shook his head, making his crimped hair fall into his eyes even more than before.

“That, or the fact that you’ve heard this story, like, five times already. I’m terrible. And repetitive,” Mingyu complained again. Even drunk, he realized he was terribly boring. When sober he at least tried to make jokes to make himself seem funny.  _ Honestly, out of them two, he was far worse with words _ , Mingyu thought. Wonwoo may have been a bit silent, but at least he didn’t yap endlessly like Mingyu did.

“I kind of got used to this,” Mingyu groaned. “You know. It can’t get much worse .” 

Wonwoo shook his head. “No,  no one should ever feel like …” he gestured in Mingyu’s general direction, almost hitting the tower of empty shot glasses from the Jagermeister & blackberry vodka shot line Mingyu pressured Wonwoo into buying him. “Like this.”

“You’re making it sound too dramatic.” Mingyu rolled his head against the table. Wonwoo was ready to bicker back, but with the corner of his eye he spotted Jun approaching their table. With a cheeky smile, the guy gently slapped Wonwoo's arm, nudging him to move over. Wonwoo reluctantly shifted deeper into the booth, and Jun groaned in exhaustion, sitting down next to him.

“So, you’re cooped up in here again, hm?” Jun didn’t really believe in greetings. He only passed Mingyu a gaze and a tiny nod, but with his old friend Wonwoo, he didn’t even bother with as much.

"Is that your idea of a party?" Jun’s eyes sparkled as he took the drinking straw out of Wonwoo’s beer and chucked a mouthful of it. He was visibly panting and sweating, and it wasn't an unusual thing for him. Jun loved just about any sort of physical activity there was. Martial arts, team games, dancing, you name it. Especially dancing, though. But being a part of the OMG Team wasn’t enough to him, and he frequented the parties at Pledis even more often than Soonyoung, who was considered a regular.

“Hello to you too, Junhui,” Wonwoo muttered with an eyeroll. Despite this cold welcome, there was a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s not a party, we’re just hanging out,” He retorted, and Mingyu nodded, finally getting up from the table.

“Then let’s go downstairs and change it!” Jun suggested with an eyebrow wiggle.

The club was separated into two sections. First section - the ground floor, where the bar was located, was scattered with booth and tables, and the music played there was mainly indie rock, or punk rock, or old rock. The interior design was industrial with a touch of vintage rock, nothing too fancy. That was also where the stage was located, and where most of the events took place.

The second section was downstairs. On the left side of a rather narrow, cement staircase, was a hall leading to staff-only areas, toilets, cloakrooms and such. On the right side, thought, at the end of another short corridor, was the part of the club designated for dancing. With a bar of its own, it was mostly dancefloor and a few table booths, all dimly lit, with scattered blue or UV lights. The location in basement provided some natural chill for the heated bodies, and excellent air conditioning provided ventilation. Music played there was faster, louder, and kept either trance or techno style, though occasional changes happened, as Pledis was happy to let new faces in the DJ world try their strength in there.

All in all, the club was the perfect solution for those not sure what they want to do on the evening, or for groups for people that couldn’t reach an agreement. And while Wonwoo prefered to spend his time upstairs, with music that he could talk over with ease, Junhui and the rest of OMG team were more commonly found in the basement, dancing their heartbeats off.

“Come on, don’t make me ask twice!” Jun nudged Wonwoo with his shoulder, and shifted his gaze to Mingyu. Jun loved dancing, true, but he always loved it more when he had someone to dance with. Either Hoshi or Minghao must have passed up on him, if he was trying to get Wonwoo out. 

“Maybe you don’t know it, but our little Wonwoo here is actually a pretty decent dancer!” Junhui nudged Wonwoo yet again, and the latter finally responded with a playful shove.

“Oh, I know that pretty well.” Mingyu snickered, which came off as meaner than he expected it. Jun only raised an eyebrow, and reached for Wonwoo’s beer bottle again, but Wonwoo moved it away before Jun got a chance to grab it.

“How so?” He inquired, and Wonwoo groaned.

“I had the pleasure of dancing with him a couple of times.” Calling it dancing was overestimating. All they really did was messily move their bodies to the rhythm while pretending Mingyu wasn’t grinding on Wonwoo’s ass. Recalling this memory, Wonwoo cleared his throat loudly.

“Did you come here just for that?” It was now his turn to nudge Jun, who comically hissed and grabbed his side. Mingyu laughed at that, the short outburst sounding a bit like dog’s barking.

“No. I also came here to make you buy me a drink.” Junhui fluttered his eyelids to make the effect better. It didn’t work on Wonwoo, who just chuckled.

“Suck my dick,” He replied, and grabbed his beer more securely, as to not get it stolen again.

“Right here? People are watching!” Drunk Junhui exaggerated all supposed-to-be comedic accents even more, and Wonwoo detangled one of his legs from where it was joined with Mingyu’s to kick Jun’s shin.

Mingyu really wanted to join in on the joke, call Junhui a pervert or a weirdo, and laugh with them - this silence wasn’t like him at all. But a thought hit him, about how Wonwoo seemed just so very comfortable in Jun’s presence, and how he, Mingyu, would like to have Wonwoo so comfortable around him too. Half terrified, half bewildered by this realisation, he decided to just shut up altogether.

Jun went through the stacked shot glasses trying to find at least a tiny bit of alcohol in there, but he failed, and just to be careful, Mingyu moved his own beer away from Jun’s reach.

“If I buy you the goddamn drink, will you go away?” Wonwoo asked, somewhere between amused and actually annoyed.

“No. To be honest I ordered a line of shots to this table. Let’s drink this and seriously.- come dance.”

“I hope you ordered enough shots for me too,” Mingyu finally spoke up, hoping that it seemed playful enough.

“Actually, I did. You’re welcome.” Jun’s breathing had gone completely normal, and he relaxed against the back of the booth.

“I am.” Mingyu nodded, trying to think of Jun as not that bad. They had met before, but never talked much, and Mingyu wasn’t too inclined to change it. Then, Wonwoo spoke up and Junhui laughed, and out of reflex Mingyu let out a chuckle, and he didn’t catch himself not listening until the waitress coming with six shot glasses on her tray snapped him back to reality.

“What did you get?” asked Mingyu, not recognising the drinks at the first glance. Jun thanked the pretty waitress with an even prettier smile.

“Honestly just cherry vodka. What? I like it!” defended Jun, when Wonwoo shot him a disapproving look.

“Two for everyone. Let’s drink, hm? Let’s cross arms.” Jun suggested, but Wonwoo shook his head laughing.

“No way, dude. You’re not getting Mingyu any more hammered.” He quickly stole a shot from where Jun moved two in Mingyu’s direction, and downed it swiftly. It was sweet, almost sticky, and even if it still burned, he didn’t feel the need for a chaser.

Mingyu didn’t like that, though, and with a loud holler of disapproval, he stole both drinks from Wonwoo’s side, drinking one after another, and putting the empty glasses in front of him, upside-down, with a little bit more force than necessary. He made a face like a satisfied toddler, which Wonwoo thought of fitting. Since Mingyu seemed rather possessive of his remaining drink now, not wanting to be lacking, Wonwoo quickly stole a shot from in front of Jun, taking advantage of Junhui’s sudden coughing fit.

Seeing Wonwoo chuck his shot and wince, Jun suddenly realised his alcohol was being stolen, and calmed down instantly. First he covered his remaining drink, and then stole the compensation from Mingyu, who didn’t even oppose all that much. After all Jun bought them and was willing to share out of the kindness of his heart, so not getting him his fair share would be just rude. Junhui tried to drink the two shots quickly, but he winced strongly after first.

“Why does this have to be so gross?” His face twisted in disgust, and then as if opposing himself, he drank the other, and smacked his lips. “At least the aftertaste is cherry.” At that, both Mingyu and Wonwoo chuckled.

Mingyu didn’t even notice when in all of this, their ankles unhooked completely, but now his legs were free. He didn’t like that feeling, and he hated himself for feeling that way.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Jun already got up first, and gestured at Wonwoo to follow his lead. On his way to the staircase, he pulled Mingyu’s arm, and tried to get him out of his seat. Mingyu spared last look to the table, checking for any of his belonging that he might have left (he didn’t leave any), and not finding any more excuses, he got up and followed Jun, making sure Wonwoo was coming, too.

As soon as he got up, Mingyu realised he shouldn’t have drank those two additional shots. They quickly went to his head, and he had to pull his brows together to focus on whatever was happening. Still, his mind aimlessly drifted towards what he’d mentioned before - him and Wonwoo dancing together. The first time they met, they only talked for a while before taking things to the dancefloor, where Mingyu tried to get into Wonwoo’s pants for the first time, and quite literally so. The situation repeated itself a few times before one evening neither of them got up and went downstairs, and they discovered they actually talking with each other, and not only messing around under the strobing lights.

After this, it seemed they reached an unspoken agreement not to dance together again. Every time they did, things always got heated up, and Wonwoo would always…  _ But that was before _ , Mingyu reassured himself.  _ Now things will go differently. _

“I gotta take a leak, don’t wait for me. I’ll find you.” Mingyu excused himself as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“At least give me the coat. Jihoon and the boys are there in a booth, they’ll watch it.” Junhui gestured for Mingyu to give him the clothing, and Mingyu realised that while upstairs it didn’t really make a difference, it could possibly get really hot, trying to dance in the long, dark coat. He quickly slipped it off and passed it to Jun.

“On the right from the bar,” Jun hollered, already leaving, and bouncing slightly to the rhythm. Wonwoo passed Mingyu one more stare before following Jun.

“Don’t take too long.”

Mingyu didn’t realise he really had to piss before he entered the restroom. But really, he only needed the time to think and give himself a pep talk.  _ Whatever, Mingyu. You’re drunk and overthinking the stupidest shit. Just whatever. It’s just a guy and this is just a dancefloor.  _ He splashed his face with water after washing his hands, and instead of wiping them with a paper towel, he used the moist to slick his ashy blue hair a bit more up, and wiped the rest on his jeans.

As he approached, he started feeling the beat in his stomach, and it got darker. Suddenly, everything made sense, and instead of being disorderly, started pulsating to the beat. The alcohol hum in his head was drowned out by the rhythm, the uncertainty of his step became ease of swaying to the beat, and the wandering, aimless thoughts found their target as soon as his eyes got locked on Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo looked gorgeous, messing up his own hair, and shaking his head to the rhythm. He didn’t take off his leather jacket, and now it was pulled up, exposing just a bit of his hipbones and stomach, and the band of his boxer briefs since his trousers - was it real leather? - were hung low on his hips.  _ He must feel hot in this jacket _ , Mingyu thought briefly, before he noticed the band of Wonwoo’s underwear again, and all other thoughts got sucked out of his brain.

Mingyu approached Wonwoo, and only then he noticed that the older male was actually dancing with Jun. Then, with the corner of his eye he noticed someone waving. It was Jihoon. Mingyu changed his path, and walked up to the table Jihoon, Soonyoung ( _ Jun’s dancing friend _ , Mingyu mentally noted), and some more guys he briefly knew were sitting at.

Jihoon hollered a welcome, and extended his hand for a high five. Soonyoung, or rather Hoshi made motions inviting Mingyu to sit down and talk, probably, but it was far too loud for that and Mingyu had something entirely different in his mind. He only shook hands with Hoshi, and some other guy with long hair he briefly recognised, and then walked back to the dancefloor.

Jun was lost in his own world, dancing as if he tried hard enough he could stop existing and become one with the music. His wrist glowed, and Mingyu figured it was one of the famous UV shoelaces the OMG Team owned. With a snicker, he passed his gaze to Wonwoo, who seemed to also have fun, but his eyes were open and he was scanning the room from time to time. He only blinked in acknowledgement when their gazes locked. Mingyu felt the need to say something, but then the beat dropped, something low and primary, and he decided to just close his eyes and follow the beat. 

It was hard, focusing on dancing, when Wonwoo was just in front of him. His all black attire made it even easier to see the little drops of sweat that appeared on his neck, somewhere between purple and white in the UV light. Right, sweat. The leather jacket must have been making it worse for him. Mingyu found his own hands grabbing the collar of Wonwoo’s Jacket and pulling the boy closer by it, while simultaneously pushing the leather back.

“Take the jacket off, it’s hot,” He tried to explain himself. He wasn’t sure if Wonwoo nodded or shook his head, but he removed the jacket himself, and put it between Soonyoung and the blonde man in the booth nearby. This action reminded Mingyu just how close to the booth and bar they were. As soon as Wonwoo turned back to him, Mingyu grabbed his wrist and pulled him deeper, in the direction of the DJ table on a slight elevation, but not right next to the loudspeaker. He forgot about Jun completely by this point.

Wonwoo followed easily, and even nodded a few times, as if glad Mingyu chose that place. He must have pulled them closer to the source of UV light, since now every single drop of sweat on Wonwoo’s body was even more vivid. Briefly, he wondered how he looked himself.

It was hard, but Mingyu was restraining himself from doing anything inappropriate. He focused on the beat and getting lost to it, refusing to think about how great Wonwoo looked when he bit his lips and threw his head back, following the music and moving messily to the rhythm. To help himself, he tried to keep his eyes closed. Alcohol circulating in his bloodstream made it easier.

His eyelids flew open, though, when he felt a pair of hands around his neck. It was Wonwoo, resting his forearms on Mingyu’s shoulders and hooking his index fingers behind Mingyu’s neck, so his arms didn’t slip off. He closed his eyes, and was still moving to the rhythm.

_ There it is again,  _ Mingyu thought.  _ Just like the first day. _ Wonwoo would approach Mingyu directly, touch him, maybe even pay a compliment if he was really drunk.  _ But maybe this time it wouldn’t end like it usually did _ , Mingyu hoped.

Following his most natural instinct, he grabbed Wonwoo’s hips, and let his arms be swayed to the rhythm by them. Once again he was almost shocked by how thin Wonwoo’s hips were, how small his waist was.  _ His thighs must be small too, and the must look gorgeous when Mingyu lowers his head between them-- No.  _ Before the thoughts got really dangerous, he shook himself back to reality.

He didn’t want to press Wonwoo’s hips to his. He really didn’t. But Wonwoo moved closer, and their belts almost hooked on each other, and Mingyu couldn’t stop himself. He pressed Wonwoo closer, grabbing at the top of his buttocks. Wonwoo half-groaned and half-moaned, and rubbed their groins together again, and Mingyu wanted to scream in frustration, because most of the sound Wonwoo made got drowned by the music.

He waited several beats before doing that again, before pressing Wonwoo closer again. The way Wonwoo rubbed against his crotch sent sparks straight to his dick, and he barely stopped himself from grabbing Wonwoo’s ass firmly.  _ But if he took it slowly, maybe this time he could finally… _

Wonwoo moved even closer to him, and now he had nowhere to put his head other than rest it on Wonwoo’s. He attempted to, but instead of letting him, Wonwoo raised his chin up and pressed his face to Mingyu’s collarbone briefly before curling one arm around Mingyus’s neck and resting his own head on the other arm. His hair was now irritating Mingyu’s adam’s apple, and his nose was brushing against it occasionally, when either of them fell out of the rhythm for a second.

Wonwoo wasn’t rocking his hips anymore, but he was definitely very close. Mingyu waited and waited for what seemed like eternity, and finally the song changed, rather seamlessly, into a more high-pitched one. Then, between one beat and another, he heard Wonwoo’s breath, and felt it against his neck, and decided to try his luck. He run his hands up from Wonwoo’s hips to his waist, excruciatingly slowly, slipping them under Wonwoo’s black shirt.

Mingyu’s hands travelled up until his thumbs pressed on Wonwoo’s lower ribs, and he could feel them expand with each breath the boy took. He didn’t want to push his luck too much, so he stopped the hands there. He soaked all the feelings in. How thin and firm Wonwoo’s waist was, how hot his skin felt, how his muscles stretched under Mingyu’s hands.  _ If only Wonwoo didn’t react, if only he would be alright with it, maybe finally he could try something more… _

He felt Wonwoo’s slip his hands from where he had them on Mingyu’s shoulders, and instead put them on Mingyu’s own hands. Their digits intertwined briefly, as Wonwoo pulled Mingyu’s palms off his waist, and dropped them to the boy’s sides. Mingyu cursed in his head, because that was what always happened. And he would understand that all, he would understand that if Wonwoo only wanted to be friends and nothing more. So for a while, he danced with his hands down, refusing to look anywhere but at the dancefloor and Wonwoo’s calves.

But then he felt Wonwoo’s hands slip around his own waist, and he couldn’t keep his calm, even if he desperately tried to for two repeats. But then the beat dropped yet again, and he groaned in a low voice.

Mingyu grabbed Wonwoo’s waist, and turned him around swiftly. He lowered his hands to the tops of Wonwoo’s hipbones, and grinded into him a couple of times. Wonwoo didn’t even protest, he only put his own hands on top of Mingyu’s. Afraid of crossing some invisible line, Mingyu slowed down for a brief second, and even if it lasted only for a couple of heartbeats, Wonwoo didn’t do anything else than throw his head back. So he pressed Wonwoo’s ass against his crotch again, and rubbed the outline of his dick against Wonwoo, only then realising he already got hard. 

Wonwoo moaned again, and for a second Mingyu hoped that this time, after all, was the time when he would get somewhere with Wonwoo. But then just after pressing himself against Mingyu’s groin, Wonwoo peeled Mingyu’s hands away from him, and pushed himself off, and turned back to face him.

“Mingyu, don’t…” Wonwoo trailed off, and rested his palms against Mingyu’s chest, as if trying to keep a distance. He didn’t stop dancing, though. All Mingyu could focus on was how beautiful his name sounded all of sudden when it was half-moaned loudly with a raspy voice.

“Don’t what?” Mingyu inquired honestly, but Wonwoo only shook his head.

He stayed silent for a couple of repeats, still dancing, and then he slid hands off Mingyu’s chest.

“I need to go,” He muttered, and left.

Mingyu stopped moving completely for a second, following Wonwoo with his eyes, and then he walked away from under the stage himself. He needed a smoke, and needed one fast, and to do that, he needed his coat. The smoking area was as well-ventilated as it could be, which meant it was also frigid at this time of the year, and he was pretty sure he left the cigarettes in the pocket of his coat anyway.

The dark, wool coat was stuck under a bag next to the long-haired man he barely recognized. Mingyu tapped his shoulder.

“Could you fetch me my coat?” Because of the loud music he had to repeat the question twice, and the blonde had to stand up a bit and lean over the table. After a bit of pointing, the blonde passed him the coat finally, and Mingyu could swear he did it with a flirty wink.

Walking to the smoking room, he dug the cigarette box out of the breast pocket, and felt it up for a lighter - present. He passed another corner, and caught a glimpse of a figure in the cloak room. He immediately identified it as Wonwoo.

While he didn’t really wish to talk with Wonwoo - or rather, he suspected Wonwoo didn’t want to talk with him at all - he was glad to know where the man was and that he was, in fact, all okay. Just to make sure, Mingyu stepped back a bit to get a better look at Wonwoo, and that’s when he spotted Junhui next to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo seemed distressed, or just in deep thought, sometimes it was hard to tell with his natural expression, but Junhui was visibly not bothered by that. He moved closer to Wonwoo, grabbed his arm, they seemed to be talking intensely about something that Mingyu had no way of overhearing. Jun moved even closer, pulled Wonwoo’s hand, and tugged at the flap of his jacket. Wonwoo responded with an unsure smile, and bit his lip. And that’s when it hit Mingyu.

The two suddenly seemed to be leaving the cloak room, and Mingyu decided there was no way he would pass them on his way to the smoking area when he could feel the bile in his throat and fire in his gut. He took a sharp turn right and climbed a small flight of stairs he knew led to a staff only zone, on the far right which was a door leading to an outside patio.

The area was accessible from the street, one had only to circle around the block Pledis was located in, but nobody really did. The area had no impressive greens and was too small for a parking lot, and half of it smelled like nicotine smoke due to the vent outlet from the smoking area. Mingyu decided he preferred this small area over the smoking room by a lot. He sat on a small ledge securing the basement window well cover, on the opposite edge of the outlet.

He wasn’t really a smoker, but he liked the smell of the cigarettes - somehow, it calmed him down. And he decided right now was just when he needed some calming. The lighter wouldn’t work for a while, and the first time he got it to light up, his hands were shaking too much and the cigarette in his lips didn’t get to light properly. He was more careful the second time around, and right after inhaling the smoke, he threw the empty lighter as far as he could.

It was always like this with Wonwoo. First Wonwoo would not deny Mingyu, grind against him, let Mingyu handle him however he wanted. Just a second later, he would push Mingyu away, shake his head as if it was an answer to all the questions, and disappear, leaving Mingyu with a hard-on. Asked about it, Wonwoo smiled like a smartass, and never answered. Mingyu never understood, never knew why, and Wonwoo would never tell him anything, and it was frustrating to no end. But today Mingyu finally understood.

_ Wonwoo’s got a thing for Junhui, and he, Kim Mingyu, is a blind idiot.  _ The way they played around, Wonwoo’s suggestive jokes, their closeness. It all made sense now. Maybe they had even been dating already, and Mingyu just never fucking asked. Fortunately, now everything seemed crystal clear, and he was furious with himself for realizing that so late. Mingyu inhaled the smoke deeper into his lungs, and coughed.  _ Nope, still not a smoker _ .

A gust of wind blew through the patio from in-between the blocks, and Mingyu shivered. His black sweater was thin, and was no protection from the cold, and underneath that he was only wearing a tank top. He got up and put on the coat he’d thrown over the ledge before, and sat back down.

He liked to smoke slow. Get a bit of the smoke into his mouth, hold it there for a while, inhale, stare into the ground. Feel his anger and his boner die down. Halfway through the smoke, he was almost ready to admit defeat and go back to club, but he wasn’t willing to abandon the cigarette he struggled so much to light. Slowly, Mingyu was able to make himself stop thinking about how Wonwoo’s trousers were real leather after all.

The only reason Mingyu heard the footsteps from the distance was that he actually zoned out enough to get lost in trying to pick out the sounds of the electronic music from below him, barely audible through the window behind him. First it was fast tapping against the sidewalk, and then crunching of gravel, and then it was right next to him. Mingyu looked up, and felt half of his anger come back when he saw none other than Wen Junhui.

“I saw you dash out, and I wondered where you went.” Once again, Jun didn’t really believe in welcomes. Mingyu nodded, and let out the smoke he had in his lips. There was no need to answer, really.  _ Besides, why did Jun care? _

“We go a way back, me and Wonwoo. I don’t even remember how we started talking after all this time, can you believe?”  _ Ah, so Jun came to torment him _ , Mingyu thought. 

“The point is- you’re not even smoking properly, give me that,” He demanded, and extended a hand to get the cigarette from Mingyu, who handed it over. Jun took a proper drag, and continued.

“The point is, he’s a close friend of mine. And I’d rather not have you fuck him up, you get it? Don’t go breaking his heart.” He exhaled, and gave Mingyu the cigarette back as if he didn’t just make his jaw drop.

“What?”  _ Eloquent, Mingyu. _

“I have no better words for this.” Junhui grimaced, and Mingyu almost bit his own tongue for insensitivity. It was easy to forget Jun was still learning the language when most of the time he was speaking fluently.

“Just don’t break his heart.”

A silence weighed the air down for a while, and Mingyu tried to inhale smoke, ever so gently, and the harsh feeling in his lungs was delicate enough for him not to cough.

“Aren’t you two together?” Was everything Mingyu managed to force out of himself as an answer. Jun laughed.

“No, not at all.”

“Doesn’t he have a thing for you?”

“God, I hope not, it would be gross.” Junhui chuckled again.

“But…” Mingyu trailed off, because honestly, what could he ask?  _ But why then doesn’t he fuck with me? Nope, not a good thing to say. _

“But what?” 

Mingyu just shook his head, and silence fell once again.

“Listen. I can see that you want him, hell, I’d have to be blind to not see it. But…” Junhui kicked a stone and inhaled deeply. “But you like him too, don’t you?”

Mingyu didn’t want to ask about the ‘too’, neither he wanted to answer, even if he couldn’t just stay silent. Just as his stalling for time was starting to get suspicious, he felt heat at his fingertips, and was violently reminded of his cigarette. It had almost burned down. Mingyu tried to take one last drag, and failed. Instead, he flicked it somewhere in the direction of where he’d previously chucked the lighter.

“Why?” He asked, when he felt Jun’s stare drill a hole in the side of his head.

“Why do you have to know ‘why’?”

“It’s important.”  _ Well, he wasn’t lying. _

“Wonwoo is not very…” Jun fell silent, and Mingyu looked over to see him grimacing. He decided a smug smirk fit Junhui better. “Just don’t break his heart. That’s all.”

Junhui got up and dusted off his butt, and that’s when Mingyu noticed he was only in his dark tank top and jeans. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Mingyu asked on a spur. Junhui shook his head.

“Nope. I’m drunk. And I’ll head back.” He turned away and left, circling around the lonely delivery van, and back to the club, through the main door. Mingyu wondered if that was because he didn’t know about the always-open staff door, or if Jun had an ulterior motive in that.

He fixed his gaze on some random fragment of the blackness in front of him, half-heartedly trying to make out objects of the blurry shapes. He noticed a brighter dot, only visible if he really focused on it - the half-extinguished butt of his cigarette.

Everything made sense just a while ago, but then Junhui came with his revelations. Now Wonwoo’s actions made even less sense to him, and he felt incredibly lost, almost small in the midst of everything. Jun’s question echoed in his head once again, and he shook it with a frown.

He didn’t- he couldn’t  _ like _ Wonwoo, it was just about sex, and there was no worrying about breaking any hearts.  _ People had sex all the time, so what if he wanted to have some with Wonwoo? _ He suddenly missed his smoke, but he’d dread to ask anyone for a lighter. After feeling up his pockets and checking if he had his phone and wallet still in his pockets, he decided he was good to go. 

He took a few steps towards the staff door, and then turned on his heel, and walked straight back home, suddenly not seeing any sense in returning to Pledis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that was long. Wonwoo's being an asshole. I know. It's going to get cleared up soon, I promise. As always, remember - comments are love, comments are life, comments get me going and updating faster. Also feel invited to hit me up on tumblr (yoonsideshave)!


	4. Drop A Heart, Break A Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .Jun is going down, and he's going down swinging, wile some people are just notches in bedposts, some people are just lines in a song, and some people are just sleeping for the wrong team.

The wildest parties were always organised at Soonyoung's place.

His parents owned a dance studio, and he practically lived there, spending most of his free time either practicing his dancing or lazing off on the cold, wooden panels. Just how exactly he got ahold of the keys to the building was a mystery of sorts. Jun was pretty sure that Soonyoung's parents, no matter how nice and chill in everyday life, were not the kind of people that would let their barely of age son throw parties in their studio and invite dozens of people. But if Soonyoung was doing that without their agreement, he was keeping it hidden well enough for them to not notice later, so Jun couldn't really complain.

At Soonyoung's house parties, Wonwoo did just what he did in the club – sat in the corner, drinking beer after beer, talking with whoever wished to talk to him and joking along with them, but never really bothered to start any ruckus. Soonyoung was always getting turned up, party or no party, drunk or sober, so there was no use in trying to control him. Minghao wasn't big on parties, but when he did attend them, he didn't really drink or drunkenly cause troubles, and even if he did, his martial arts and general life skills were good enough to get out of them later.

Thus, with having no friends to watch over, Jun had no idea why he kept showing up to the parties. A tug in his gut reminded him that maybe it was because of the dreamy blonde on the sette, who was burning holes in the neck of the guy in the tank-top. He shook his head, forbidding himself to think about either Jeonghan or Seungcheol, and convinced himself he was there to have fun.

Even if he managed to convince himself, it was hard to in fact have fun. The music wasn't bad, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sounds of people talking so it wasn't loud enough to dance to it. The drinks were there, but there was an amount one could drink without getting particularly drunk without getting sick of it, and Jun was approaching that amount with the fourth beer he was slowly sipping. As for talking, all his usual friends were either absent (Minghao), busy (Soonyoung) or had disappeared somewhere (Wonwoo). Jun scanned his surroundings once more, in search of something to do or someone to talk to, and his eyes landed on a big armchair, and a blonde haired shortie in it. Jihoon, aka the guy he knew but not really. Thinking that it could be a perfect idea to talk the guy up, Jun approached Jihoon and took the empty chair next to him.

“Hi there.”

“Hi,” Jihoon replied, acknowledging Jun with a nod.

What a great conversation starter, Jun thought.

“Glad to know you're not cooped up in your studio so much anymore.”

“Fooled you. I actually barely come out.” Maybe on his own Jihoon led the social life of a dead fish, but at least he knew how to laugh about that.

“Is this only a puppet to trick people into thinking you're socialising while your real self is still in the studio?” At this Jihoon grimaced.

“I can't work until I get new materials from the group I'm doing the project with, and Soonyoung insisted I come. So I came.” He seemed almost apologetic for not working. Jun knew that feeling way too well from when he was considered a prodigy in what he did. But China was a long way away from the party and child acting was a long time ago, so he returned to the reality fast.

“I'm really glad to see you.” He tried to make that sound as real as it was. Jihoon only nodded, and a silence fell for a while.

“You weren't blonde before?” That was supposed to be a statement, but it came off as a question.

“I owed a family friend and she wanted to test out her hairdressing skills. It just happened.” Jihoon's grimace was so distraught Jun almost laughed out loud.

“Hey, don't get bummed up over this. You look good.”

“Thanks.” Jihoon half-smiled, and it only added to his attractiveness.

“Are you growing your hair out now?”

“No.” In response, Jihoon quickly grabbed his tiny ponytail, as if hiding it. “I just forgot to ask for a haircut to go with the bleaching.”

Jun nodded, and weighed his words before deciding the booze in his and Jihoon's system should be enough to be okay to say them.

“You're not trying to look like Jeonghan, right?” At this, Jihoon inhaled so sharply it sounded like a hiss.

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“You're not trying to look more like Jeonghan so Seungcheol likes you, right?”

“God, no! What are you even implying?” He was so heated he almost got up from the armchair.

“Come on. I can see the way you look at him.”

“Don't give me this bullshit.”

“Unrelenting as ever.” The sole fact that Jihoon knew what Jun was referring to served as enough of a proof for Jun to know he was right.

It wasn't a secret, really, that Jihoon had more than just sympathy for Seungcheol, mainly because it was rather easy to see, or maybe it was easy for Jun to see, because of how similar his own situation was. It was certainly very much not obvious for Seungcheol himself. Jun watched Seungcheol talk and laugh with Mingyu and Soonyoung for a while, wondering how the man could be so oblivious.

“How do you know?” Jihoon broke the silence finally.

“As I said, the way you look at him,” at this, Jihoon rolled his eyes so hard his irises almost disappeared under his eyelids “but also the way you act around him. Trying more, and caring less.”

Jihoon nodded, and then looked Jun deep in the eye for a second, as if he knew Jun's deepest, darkest secrets. Then, he turned his head away and grabbed a cup off the table where he must've put it before, and sipped on it calmly.

“I'm telling you this only because I'm drunk already, but the fucker has no idea.”

“I know.”

“Stop knowing everything.” Drunk Jihoon wasn't really different from everyday Jihoon.

“But it's better this way, if he doesn't know.” Jun tried to change the subject.

“How so?”

“You can keep believing he will change his mind, but once you're rejected, no matter how hard you try, things are never the same.”

“Speaking from experience?” The sudden question had Jun shut up rapidly, and look away. He scanned the room, and noticed just how Jeonghan was not in it, and he felt a bit more safe with admitting the truth.

“Yes,” at that, Jihoon scoffed with satisfaction “but I'm only telling you this only because I'm drunk already.” There was an unsaid 'are you?' lingering in the air, but Jihoon didn't ask that, and only smirked instead.

“I'm not judging you.”

“God forbid you are.” Like that, their conversation died off, and they both just sat there, slowly sipping at their respective drinks, trying to not watch their hopeless crushes from across the room.

“I think I never saw Soonyoung after he dashed off to that toilet.” Jun tried to break the silence.

“Me neither. And when was that?”

“Two songs ago.”

“Want me to check up on him?”

“Nah, I'll take it.” If there was anyone that should see Soonyoung puking his lungs out, it was Jun, who've seen this image countless times already.

“Alright.”

“And, Jihoon?”

“Yes?” Jihoon perked up in such a way that it made Jun wonder again if the man was not actually a cat hybrid.

“You'd look cute with pastel pink hair.” He started and quickly turned away, not wanting to face Jihoon after that confession.

The toilets were just next to the dance practice room that has been turned into a dancefloor with as much as a few strategically placed lights and one DIY disco bulb, after all, the great sound system was already there. It wasn’t really used, though, as most people preferred to gather around in the reception and staff room, and the tiny pseudo-kitchen nearby. When Junhui opened the door to the toilets and started scanning the stalls for one passed out Hosh, he could still hear the people talking, but after the door closed, the sound was drowned out. The beat stayed, though, thumping under his feet non-violently, and it followed him after he decided there was no one in the toilets, and started checking out other rooms.

Just about every door in the studio was unlocked. Hoshi trusted his friends to not do anything stupid, and he also wanted everyone to have the freedom of hiding away in one of the practice rooms when they just feel like talking away. Travelling through the rooms, though, Jun got another idea. The OMG Team always practiced in one of the rooms anyway, so they each had a locker in one of the storage rooms. _And, did he not have a dirty towel, like, a seriously dirty towel, that he always forgot to take back home and wash?_ Junhui figured it would be a good idea to take it right then, and take it home with him, as soon as he found Soonyoung and took care of him, of course.

Two turns later, Jun found himself crossing OMG Team’s preferred practice room and slipping into the storage-slash-changing room with lockers. He knew the small room by heart, so he saw no reason to turn the lights. Fiddling with his lock and then with the locker’s contents in the darkness, he focused on the senses other than vision, trying to recognise the towel by its softness under his fingertips. He also started picking subtle sounds from the other side of the room.

The tiny locker room actually connected two practice rooms, one he just came from, and another, smaller one, that was less used, on the far off end of the studio. It surprised Jun that anything was happening inside. the more he listened, the more the sounds sounded like a hushed talk and gym mat squeaks. Being the curious little monster he was, Junhui closed the door he came through and approached the other as quietly as possible. It became clear to him that there are people talking, but he still couldn’t recognise the quiet voices. After several seconds of listening, the voices fell almost completely silent, and there was barely any sound for a solid while. Scared, but also curious, Junhui slowly opened the door just a bit, and peeked inside.

There was barely any light coming from the far off window, no street lights near it, and if Jun’s eyes weren’t get used to the darkness already while feeling up the inside of his locker, he would have missed the two boys sitting on the stack of the mattresses, faces so close to each other it was clear what they were doing. The scarce light in the room wasn’t enough to recognise them both, especially that one was covered by the other’s shadow. One of them, though, had broad shoulders, dark jeans and an ashen blonde ponytail that Junhui would surely recognise anywhere. Jeonghan was sucking faces with someone who judging by the general shape of the legs was another boy, and Jun just had the misfortune to be the witness.

Even if he cursed himself several times, he just couldn’t glue his eyes off the sight. Jeonghan was moving more and more, heating into the kiss, his hair bouncing brilliantly against his back, and Jun bit his lip so hard he could swear it should have be bleeding. Still, he couldn’t move back, close the door, or just do anything to stop watching.

Jeonghan had made it pretty clear that he did not belong to Jun, and that he did not wish to be with Jun, or even to give him a chance, but that didn’t mean Jun was anywhere close to over Jeonghan, or to giving up. He knew that the object of his affection liked to throw himself in the arms of people who certainly were not Junhui himself, and it always hurt to listen about his newest escapades, but to see it happening was a whole another thing, and it apparently hurt even more.

The other boy was slimmer than Jeonghan, and had hair that seemed more brown than black, and all that Jun managed to observe about him was that he definitely was not Seungcheol. He had almost decided to leave already, when Jeonghan shifted, and so did whoever he was kissing, and they kept shifting until the other guy was straddling Jeonghan, and they angled their heads just so, and the faint light reflected on the side of the boy’s head, and it hit Jun like a train.

Hong Jisoo, the church boy, who seemed to never fit with the crowd at first, who played the guitar, only washed his hair with lemon water to lighten it, whose wildest deed up to date was having an ear cartilage piercing with a god damned cross. Hong Jisoo, the guy from America, who from time to time pronounced some words funny, and who Jun almost felt an affiliation to, because he, too, even if knowing the language, was just not from there, and had a mentality different from everyone else. Hong Jisoo, who Jun thought to be as straight as they come, if not in celibacy, even. Hong Jisoo, who was moaning as Jeonghan grabbed his waist, and who just buckled his hips against Jeonghan’s.

Not being able to take that sight anymore, Junhui barged in, and blindly slapped his hand across the wall, looking for the light switch, finding it, fortunately, and blinding the other two as well as himself.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” He made his smile look honestly apologetic, but his eyes were bitter and glossy. “I’m gonna go now. Sorry for the intrusion.” He didn’t even bother acting surprised at the sight of the two, and just walked straight across the room to the other door.

“Junhui, please…” He heard Jeonghan say, but it was too late for him to stop being salty.

“Real sorry. Please, continue.” He tried anyway, and now his smile was less ironic, and more sad. Being upset in front of Jeonghan was the last thing he wanted right now, so he blinked quickly just in case tears wanted to form in his eyes. He passed one last look to Jeonghan, and to Jisoo in his lap, and closed the door behind himself with utmost care - he wanted to slam it, but that wouldn’t exactly say ‘not jealous’.

Junhui wanted to just slide down the wall and sink to the floor, and maybe scream at himself for being so stupid and acting so jealous while he had no right to, but instead he looked at the dirty towel still in his hand, and slowly walked away, somewhere in the direction of the room where everyone was sitting. It was bland in there, though, and tiring, and he only stuffed the towel in his bag before leaving again. He didn’t plan on coming back to where he just came from, but his legs carried him there as if he wanted to say something, add something spiteful in a _l’esprit d’escalier_ moment, but then he realised there’s nothing to say, and he turned back sharply. Still, he was just frustrated and had absolutely zero idea what to do, so he turned back again, and then back again again, and then before he managed to manage himself and leave, he heard the door open, and turned around, and it was Jeonghan, coming out of the room, with his hair slightly messy and sharply tightening pupils.

“Junhui,” he looked between panicked and relieved, if that’s even possible. “Jesus, I’m-” he seemed apologetic for a second, but then he remembered it’s not like he has anything to be sorry for.

“You’re what?” Junhui knew that pissing Jeonghan off wasn’t exactly the best idea, but he couldn’t stop himself. Sometimes he was just this petty.

There was a flurry of thoughts in Jeonghan’s head. _Why are you doing this? Why are you making everything hard between us? Why are you even still here? Why do I feel like I should be sorry?_ All of those questions would show that he was somewhere near hurt, though, so Jeonghan decided on playing it differently.

“Why did you barge in? Why are you even at the party?” He started, but Junhui completely ignored him.

“Jisoo? Of all people?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes aggressively. “Oh, come on, I can make out with whoever I want to, and if I wish to make out with Joshua, then so I will.”

“Joshua? That’s what you call him now?”

“Oh fuck off!”

“Why does he get a chance, and I don’t?” Junhui finally exploded.

Jeonghan bit his lip and looked down for a split second, and Junhui knew there was an answer, but he wouldn’t hear it today, or maybe never would

“Can we… Not do this?” Jeonghan breathed deeply and tried to calm himself down. All the fighting he started was only because he angry at himself, deep inside he knew that, and he was just taking it out on Jun.

“Can you not do this?” Jun wasn’t sure if he wanted to put the emphasis on ‘you’ or ‘this’.

“No, Junhui, I can’t! I’m a grown up man and I’m free to do whatever I want, suck it up!” Just ten seconds ago Jeonghan really wanted to reconcile, but for some reason Jun just couldn’t let things go.

For a while Jun considered a cease-fire, but then he remembered how gladly Jeonghan pressed Jisoo against himself, and he felt the bile rise up in his throat once again. “Who do you think you are?”

“Joshua is listening.”

“Don’t give me this shit.”

“Please, don’t raise your voice, Joshua is listening-” Jun hated how pathetic Jeonghan made himself sound more than he was willing to understand the embarrassment Jeonghan wanted to avoid. Just then, Joshua opened the door behind Jeonghan leading to the dark practice room they were sitting in before.

“I’m not listening, keep talking.” He said, with a cat half-smile that didn’t reach his cheeks. Jun didn’t look behind when Jisoo passed him.

Jeonghan opened his mouth to speak, but Jun interrupted. “Do you really think you have the right to play people like this?”

“I’m not playing anyone, Joshua is really nice so…” Jeonghan started, before realising that’s probably not who Jun meant.

“You think you’re the hottest shit, huh? That everyone wants you?” Jeonghan refused to let his eyes meet Jun’s. “Just who do you think you are?”

“An asshole!”

At that, Jun fell silent.

“Happy now? I know I’m an asshole. But you know what? Everyone else knows that, too.”

Even though sharply cooled down, Jun’s anger still hadn’t disappeared. He looked down, unable to answer.

“I’m just an asshole who’s sleeping around to feel better about himself. So what? It’s not like it’s a secret, and it’s not like you should care. Get off my case.”

“You weren’t like this before, Jeonghan.”

“I know.” His voice was so quiet Jun could barely hear it over the far off music.

“Then what happened?” Jun also quieted down, now mostly worried.

“I don’t know.” A heavy silence fell between them for what felt like far too long. “Can I go now?”

Jun didn’t answer, and just moved to the side, to let Jeonghan through. He saw no point in simply standing in place, neither in going to the darkened practice room, so when Jeonghan’s steps trailed away, he turned around and left, too. As expected, Jeonghan headed to the mini-kitchen, where he helped himself for a drink. The last thing Junhui wanted was another confrontation with the blonde, so he quickly turned to the main room, and from there escaped to the small balcony. Even if it was cold, he could at least be alone for a while.

The cold tiles were starting to get to him through the thin fabric of his jeans when the balcony door opened, and Wonwoo stepped in, and closed the door behind himself messily.

“You sitting here long?”

“No,” Jun answered truthfully, as Wonwoo sat next to him.

“You had a talk with Jeonghan?” Somehow Wonwoo always knew what was up with Junhui, even if he tried to hide that. _That was one of the reasons they were such good friends,_ Jun thought.

“Yeah. I don’t know.”

“Mess?”

“Mess.” After that, a silence fell for a couple of deep breaths.

“I saw him talking with Jisoo.” Wonwoo confessed.

“Good for you, I saw them sucking faces.” Jun’s expression was as bitter as if he ate a lemon.

“Gosh.”

“Isn’t it messed up? How I’m just dying to be him?” Jun’s expression changed, and he started looking like he didn’t only eat the lemon, but also poured pure lemon juice into his eyes.

“It’s normal, Jun, you’re in love,” Wonwoo stopped abruptly, hit with Jun’s judging look. “Okay, you have a crush. It’s normal.”

“Please, Wonwoo, stop this.”

"Hey, I'm trying." Wonwoo didn’t specify what he’s trying to do, but he gestured as if he was saying ‘everything’. Jun sighed heavily.

"Can we not talk about me?"

"Sure."

"Can we talk about you instead? I have something to say to you." At that, Wonwoo sighed deeply in return, and squirmed uncomfortably on the hard floor.

"I know what you're gonna say." Wonwoo was playing with his fingers nervously.

"Yeah? What is it then?"

"That I'm playing Mingyu and I shouldn't, or else I'll end up like Jeonghan."

Jun arched his eyebrow so high up he worried it may fall off.

"Um, no? That's not what I'm thinking at all."

"Then what are you thinking that requires such a dramatic start?" Wonwoo shoved Jun lightly. He didn’t look like the type, but he was a very hands-on person.

"I didn't make the dramatic start, you did."

"Oh whatever," this time Wonwoo only nudged Jun. "Just talk.”

"I think you should give him a chance, Wonwoo. Mingyu isn't all that bad."

"He’s nice and talking with him is great, but you should see him when I try to ask about anything. He acts like he's not even gay and he just wants to fuck the hot emo." Wonwoo rolled his eyes.

"Wow, aren't you thinking too highly of yourself?"

"You're the one who called me a hot emo!" Another playful arm shove.

"It's because you're always sulking in the corner, man. But don't change the subject."

"I just don't see the point of going batshit crazy all the time like other people do. You gotta save the crazy for special occasions.” Wonwoo tried to change the subject anyway.

"Don’t change the subject."

"Alright." They both shifted into more comfortable positions, as Wonwoo stayed silent. The cold was starting to get to them, especially to Jun.

"He hangs out with you all the time, if he only wanted a quick fuck, he'd already pick someone else.” Wonwoo sighed and started playing with the laces of his shoes, tugging at them. Anything to not look Jun in the eye. “And you like talking to him. Why don't you bring this to the next level, then?"

"Maybe he wants to be friends with benefits. Or he's just really desperate to get some ass."

"Or you're reading too much into it." Jun extended his legs forwards and with no problem rested his head on his knees, trying to see Wonwoo’s face better.

"Listen, Jun, I'm a simple guy. I don't want to fuck with a guy that has no romantic interest in me, no matter how hot he may be." Wonwoo made no effort to look anywhere besides his own shoes.

"So you're admitting Mingyu is hot."

"Of course, he's insanely hot, but that’s not the point."

"But what are you gonna do about this?" Junhui was unrelenting.

"Nothing. My plans haven't changed. I'm gonna wait until he asks me out or something. A date is all it takes." Wonwoo finally glued his eyes off his laces, and pulled his hoodie over his fingers, to cover them better, and then squeezed the sleeves shut over his hands. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

"Really, just one date? You're gonna fuck on the first date?" Wonwoo just shrugged in response.

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

“Then maybe I should just tell him to ask you out?”

“Don’t tell him that.” Immediately, Wonwoo almost shouted in response, turning his head very quickly.

“Why?”

“Then he will ask me out just to fuck me, and I really don’t need that, alright?” Jun nodded, and Wonwoo turned his eyes away, satisfied.

“It’s freezing in there. Can we go back?” Wonwoo added after a while, pulling Jun out of his own world, where he’d been thinking about how he and Mingyu were in similar, but very, very different situations.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Later that evening Jun caught Wonwoo and Mingyu exchanging looks from across the room even more often than he caught Mingyu looking at Wonwoo when he thought nobody could notice. He didn’t see Jeonghan anymore, and later he realised he didn’t see Jisoo, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, stuff is getting cleared up, and individual storylines are getting tied together. A lot of dialogue, right? As always, thank you for subscribing, everyone, and as always, please leave your kudos and comments if you liked the story!  
> Also, I'm now much more active on twitter, I will post a lot about my writing there, even little snippets, if you're interested, follow me @FrigCal !

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for taking your time and reading my work. This is the fluffiest chapter in the entire story, probably, well, maybe not including the very end. Don't forget to leave kudos and comments if you've enjoyed this piece! Stay tuned in for more updates.


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